


one beer

by buddiebuddie



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Mentions of addiction, Mentions of character injury, Smut, Some Plot, but this story is mostly just a vehicle for tarlos smut, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24829291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buddiebuddie/pseuds/buddiebuddie
Summary: “Carlos,” TK breathes as Carlos inches his hand up higher. “You are aware –oh fuck– that I’m operating heavy machinery here?”
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Comments: 19
Kudos: 270





	one beer

“Okay,” TK says, turning around from where he’s leaning up against the bar, a row of fresh drinks in front of him. “Judd and Grace,” he says, more to himself than to anyone else, in an effort to keep everyone’s order straight. He passes them each a bottle of beer, reaching over Paul’s shoulder to reach Judd’s outstretched hand.

Mateo swoops in and takes his drink and Marjan’s, passing it to her. “Paul,” he continues, turning back to the bar to locate his glass before passing it along. “And Carlos,” he finishes, passing his boyfriend a longneck bottle. Their friends are already headed over to the dart board, but Carlos hasn’t moved. 

“What’s wrong?” TK asks. “I didn’t get you the wrong one, did I?” 

Carlos smiles, because no, of course he didn’t get it wrong. He saw Carlos drinking a Bud Light at the honkey tonk that first night they danced together and he’d remembered it all this time. Carlos wonders what he ever did to deserve this incredible man by his side. 

“No,” Carlos replies. “But I’m cool sticking with water.”

TK pecks him on the cheek. “Have the beer, baby. You deserve it after the shift you had today.”

Carlos pauses for a second, stuck in a moment of indecision. Since TK first brought up his substance abuse that night at the police station, Carlos hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol around him. He’d been conscious to keep it out of his house, to choose water at the bar, to decline the wine menu at restaurants. Supporting TK in his sobriety has _always_ been more important to Carlos than that two-beer buzz after a long shift. He’d never even questioned it. 

TK’s not wrong about his shift today. He and his partner kicked off their morning trailing a prison transport van. What should have been a routine half hour call turned into a five-hour manhunt when three of the prisoners managed to get out and made a break for it. 

Carlos knew TK would be upset if he knew the details, if he learned that he was shot at. He knew TK’s jaw would set, that he’d start chewing on his bottom lip anxiously if Carlos told him that he had to discharge his weapon, knew that he’d absolutely lose it if Carlos told him how he was grazed by a bullet in the side, how even though it caught in the kevlar of his vest, he still saw stars and had a bruise within minutes. So he kept the details to himself, just for the time being. 

TK had seen coverage of the prisoners’ escape on the news and had texted him about it, but Carlos had forgotten his phone at the station and when he got back and checked it, he knew he couldn’t tell his boyfriend he kind of took a bullet at work over a text message. Not unless he wanted the entire 126 rolling up to the precinct, lights and sirens and all, so TK could get to Carlos and make sure he wasn’t lying about being fine and it not even hurting that much. 

**10:54 am - TK :** Saw your car on the news just now. Be safe. 

**12:17 pm - TK:** Heading to a call. Love you.

 **4:48 pm - TK:** Heard you guys got them. Way to be, baby! You okay? Heard they fired at the police. Call me when you can. 

**6:01 pm - Carlos:** Sorry love, forgot my phone at my desk. I’m alright. How was your call? 

**6:01 pm - Carlos:** Can’t wait to see you. 

“Carlos,” TK says, pulling him out of his thoughts. He places a hand on Carlos’s arm as he leans in close enough that he doesn't have to shout over the music. “I love that you worry about me, but I don’t want you to stop living your life. You shouldn’t have to miss out because of me” 

“My life is pretty great right now,” Carlos points out. “I’m not missing out.” 

“Hey, listen to me,” TK says, as if Carlos has ever missed a single word that came out of that beautiful mouth. “I used because I was trying to escape. I mean God, I’d do anything I could do to get away from my life for a little bit.” 

Carlos softens at TK’s words. He never pushes, always waits for TK to talk about his addiction on his own terms and his own time. The knowledge that he only talks about it to people he trusts squeezes at Carlos’s chest, reminds him how much TK cares about him.

“It was all about escape. There’s nothing here I want to get away from,” TK says, voice low and eyes bright under the neon lights. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to Carlos’s lips. “Nothing.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” TK nods, kissing him once more. “Besides,” he continues, half-smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leans in, breath ghosting across Carlos’s skin as he says, “If I remember correctly, you make the _best_ noises when there’s a little bit of alcohol in your system.”

Carlos’s breath hitches in his throat at that, his hands coming to rest on TK’s hips as he pulls him closer. “Careful, Strand,” he murmurs, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

“Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing,” TK whispers, barely audible over the country music coming from the speakers above them. He nips at Carlos’s bottom lip, and Carlos swears under his breath. Carlos has to take a step back, because they’re in public after all, and he doesn’t trust himself not to throw his boyfriend down on top of the bar and take him apart. 

He drinks the beer, and then he has a second. He’s halfway through his third and in the middle of a conversation with Paul on the back patio when he feels two familiar hands on his shoulders. He relaxes beneath TK’s touch immediately, turning in his barstool to meet his eyes. “Hey, you,” he says. 

“Hey,” TK replies, voice low. He’s been chatting with Marjan on the other side of the patio, unable to tear his eyes away from Carlos.

Carlos, the prettiest man TK’s ever laid eyes on, is irresistible on a good day. But tonight, with his eyes lit up as he chats with Paul, taking long pulls from his bottle, tipping his head back and bearing his throat each time? TK can hardly breathe. And when he catches TK’s eyes on him, he licks his lips and winks, sending TK’s blood rushing south. 

Marjan finally nudges him with her elbow, rolling her eyes as she abandons the story TK had hardly been listening to and instructing him to _stop ogling your boyfriend and just go take him home already_. And Tyler Kennedy Strand, CEO of Not Listening the First Time, to the shock of many, does not need to be given a direction twice for once in his life. 

He’s practically buzzing out of his own skin, so eager to get out of here, all but aching to get his hands on Carlos. His fingers knead into his shoulders as he leans down to bring his lips to the shell of Carlos’s ear. 

“You keep teasing me like that and I’m gonna have no choice but to blow you in the bathroom.” 

Carlos chokes on his beer. TK takes the opportunity to continue, his voice low. “Gonna pin you down, get my hands on you, take you apart.”

And yep, that goes straight to Carlos’s dick. “TK,” he whines. 

TK smirks, drumming his fingers against Carlos’s tee shirt, the feel of the toned muscle beneath it only riling him up more. “But you can stay if you want.”

Carlos says nothing, just downs the rest of his drink in one long sip, placing the empty bottle down so quickly it nearly falls on its side. He stands up, clapping Paul on the shoulder. “Alright, we’re heading out. Night, bud.”

Paul didn’t have to hear whatever it was that TK just said to Carlos, he can tell _exactly_ where they’re going by the smirk still clinging to TK’s face and the inky black pools where Carlos’s pupils used to be. He laughs. “Alright, you two. Have a good night.”

“Oh, we will!” TK calls over his shoulder, slipping his hand into Carlos’s back pocket as they make their way out and into the parking lot. When Carlos passes TK his car keys, he grabs his wrist and pulls him in close, backing him up against the side of the Camaro. 

“You drive me crazy,” he murmurs, running his hands down TK’s sides.

“You’re one to talk,” TK replies. “As if you didn’t know exactly what you were doing to me back there.” 

“All’s fair in love and war, baby,” Carlos says, dropping an open-mouthed kiss to TK’s lips. TK’s hand fists in the material of Carlos’s shirt, pulling him even closer as he licks into his mouth. 

Carlos’s hands find the hem of TK’s shirt, rucking it up just enough to get his hands on him properly, fingers running across warm skin. 

TK spreads his legs enough for Carlos to settle between them, one hand resting on the car window as the other finds the small of TK’s back. As Carlos noses at his neck, trailing a line of kisses down to his collarbone, TK lets out a soft gasp and he thinks about how pressed up against Carlos is his favorite place to be. 

“Get a room!” someone calls from the other side of the parking lot.

“That’s the plan!” TK calls back. He jingles the keys in his hand, placing his other hand on Carlos’s chest. “Let’s go.” 

The drive back to Carlos’s house is the longest six minutes of TK’s life. He pulls out of the lot and onto the road with both his hands glued to the wheel, eyes staring straight ahead. He doesn’t trust himself to glance over at Carlos out of fear of resorting to pulling the car over and climbing into the back seat. Been there, done that, had a stiff neck for a week thanks to the Camaro’s less-than-ideal backseat size. 

So he keeps his eyes on the road, not daring to look over at Carlos in the passenger seat. But then there’s a hand on his knee and all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears as he tries to breathe and focus. 

“Carlos,” TK breathes as Carlos inches his hand up higher. “You are aware –oh fuck– that I’m operating heavy machinery here?” 

Carlos laughs, squeezing that same spot on TK’s thigh that had him swearing beneath his breath just a moment ago. “Say the word and I’ll stop,” he practically purrs, inching his hand up further. 

As if TK would ever. 

By the time he pulls into Carlos’s driveway, he’s practically panting, hard and leaking in his jeans already. Carlos, the fucking tease, has inched his way all the way up, his palm resting on the zipper of TK’s jeans, cupping him through the fabric. 

They all but fly into the house, a flurry of hands and lips and bitten-off moans the second the front door slams behind them. They don’t break contact as they stumble backwards down the hallway, making into the bedroom in record speed.

Carlos’s voice is husky as he breaks his lips away from TK’s long enough to say, “Fuck me.” 

All the blood in TK’s body rushes south at that. And because there’s nothing sexier than consent, he says, “Are you–”

“Sure? Yes. Really sure? Yes.” Carlos cuts him off, taking a step forward and walking him back towards the bed. He pulls his shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. “Positive? Also yes,” he says, stepping out of his pants. “Going to die if you don’t take your clothes off in the next thirty seconds? Probably.”

The backs of TK’s knees hit the mattress and he drops back. Carlos leans over him, hands on the mattress on either side of his head. “Does that cover it?” he asks, voice low. 

TK nods, surging forward and capturing Carlos’s lips with his own. “Off,” Carlos insists, grabbing at the hem of TK’s shirt. He obliges, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor before dropping back onto the mattress, allowing Carlos to make quick work of his belt and zipper, yanking his pants down in a swift motion. TK kicks them to the floor and shimmies up the bed so his legs aren’t hanging off anymore. 

He grabs Carlos by the hips and flips them, Carlos’s back pressing into the mattress as TK straddles him. Carlos’s eyes are wide, pupils blown. Fuck. He loves this. 

It’s usually the other way around, Carlos in control and TK begging for it, egging Carlos on to shove him into the mattress, to back him into the wall. It’s usually Carlos holding him in place and chasing those little punched-out moans and bitten-off gasps. But nights like tonight, when they change it up and TK takes charge just hit different, Carlos giving himself up entirely and enjoying every second. Being manhandled by TK might just be the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. It’s certainly his hobby of choice.

TK spreads Carlos’s knees and drops down between them. He mouths at him through the fabric of his black briefs, and Carlos lets out a long, shaky breath. TK runs his hands over Carlos’s hips and up his sides, stopping in his tracks when Carlos inhales sharply, body seizing up. It’s too dark in the room to see his face, but TK can tell instantly that something’s not right. 

“What’s wrong?” TK asks, voice thick with concern. He immediately takes his hands away from Carlos’s body, sitting back on his ankles. “I’m sorry, fuck, did I–” 

“Nothing,” Carlos cuts him off. “You didn’t do anything wrong, baby. It’s nothing.” 

TK isn’t satisfied with that, not with the way Carlos tensed up like that. “Let me see,” TK insists, reaching up and turning on the lamp on the nightstand. 

“It’s not that bad,” Carlos begins, in an attempt to placate the panic he’s sure is about to overcome TK when he gets a good look at the bruise crawling up his left side. 

“Baby,” TK murmurs, taking in the sight of it. He wants to run his fingers over it, wants to take away the pain he’s sure Carlos has to be feeling. Hell, he can practically feel it himself just from looking at it, a sea of deep, angry purple coloring the soft skin of Carlos’s side. “What happened?” 

“I got shot.” Carlos winces as he says it, bracing himself for the reaction he’s sure is to come.

“You what?” TK asks incredulously. “Carlos, oh my God.” 

“It’s fine,” he insists. “My vest caught it, it never even touched me.” 

TK looks like he’s about to either cry or throw up, maybe both. “There’s nothing fine about that!”

“I’m fine,” Carlos insists. “It’s just a bad bruise.” 

TK’s voice is small when he asks, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos admits. “I’m sorry. You were at work and I didn’t want to freak you out, and then we were at the bar and it just didn’t feel like the right time. Besides, I’m totally fine.” 

TK shakes his head, worry written all over his face. “You’re not fine, you nearly jumped out of your skin when I touched you.” 

“It's a little sensitive, is all.” 

TK lets out a strangled noise as realization dawns on him. “And God, I was relentless at the bar. Fuck. Carlos, you should have told me. We didn’t have to go out tonight. I’m so sor–”

“I wanted to go out tonight,” Carlos cuts in, insistent. “It’s okay.”

“Carlos,” TK sounds wounded, his voice small. 

Carlos sighs, pulling TK back down on top of him, wrapping an arm around his waist. He runs a thumb over his bottom lip affectionately. “I’m going to get hurt sometimes. It’s okay. I’m okay.” 

TK knows he’s right, and if the roles were reversed he’d be just as insistent as Carlos, if not more. “Doesn’t mean I don’t hate it,” he practically pouts. Carlos kisses it right off his face. 

“Maybe,” Carlos begins, nipping at TK’s lip. “You can distract me from it.” 

“Mmmm,” TK hums into Carlos’s mouth. “Thought you said it didn’t hurt,” he teases. 

“I can always take care of this myself,” Carlos rolls his hips up. 

TK gasps, grinding down. Carlos’s hand trails down to palm at TK through his briefs. _Fuck_. TK can’t think straight. “God, Carlos, okay –oh fuck, okay– okay.”

He starts off kissing the hinge of Carlos’s jaw, then down his neck. His collarbone, his chest, making his way to the large bruise coloring his side. He looks up at Carlos, as if to ask permission. Carlos nods, and then TK’s kissing it softly, lips feather-light against the purple skin. He licks across it, nipping at the un-bruised skin nearby, running his tongue across the mark to soothe it. 

Carlos is practically writhing beneath him, fingers tangled up in the sheets, sucking in big mouthfuls of air. TK continues his journey south, getting his fingers beneath the waistband of Carlos’s briefs just as he presses a kiss to the inside of his hip bone. He tugs them down with his teeth, looking up at Carlos through his lashes as he does so. 

Carlos whimpers, hands fisting in the sheets. “Fuck,” Carlos murmurs, TK wrapping his fingers around his cock. He runs his thumb over the tip, smearing precome across the head, and Carlos thinks he’s dying. He’s dying and he’s gone to heaven and this is how he’s going to live out eternal bliss. Because that’s what this is. Eternal fucking bliss. 

“TK, TK, please– fuck– I need–”

“Hmm,” TK murmurs against Carlos’s ear, dragging his teeth across the smooth skin of his earlobe. “What do you need?” 

“You.”

TK’s grinning as he digs in the nightstand drawer. Carlos practically whines at the sight of him, kiss-swollen and rock hard, sitting back on his heels as he opens up the lube bottle, slicking up his fingers.

Carlos hisses, stretching around TK’s finger. He movies in and out carefully before picking up his pace a bit, just long enough to get Carlos writhing beneath him, begging for a second. “Another,” Carlos manages to get out, amid the electricity running through his body and short-circuiting his brain as TK actively turns him to goo beneath his highly skilled fingers. “So good baby.” 

TK beams, dropping a kiss to Carlos’s chest as he works a second finger in. Carlos’s fingers curl in TK’s hair, tugging as his whole body jerks. TK, as much as he loves to take care of Carlos like this, isn’t sure how much longer he’s going to last himself. Especially not when Carlos is praising him and pulling his hair. He’s so turned on it’s ridiculous, each punched-out noise and bitten-off moan going straight to his already aching dick. 

“TK, _please_.” He’s teasing him, dragging his fingers out to circle his rim only before plunging them back in.

“What do you want?” TK asks. Carlos could ask him for the world right now and he’d find a way to make it happen. “Anything.” 

Carlos’s answer is caught in his throat, choked off when TK strokes his prostate. His whole body jerks. 

“You know –oh, _fuck_ – you know what I want,” Carlos says, voice thick with desire.

He’s met with the wettest, filthiest kiss of his life as TK drags his fingers out slowly. He drops a kiss to Carlos’s shoulder as he lines himself up and presses in, inhaling sharply at the tight heat around him. “Fuck,” he breathes. “You feel so good.”

Carlos’s grin is wiped clean off his face when TK grinds his hips. He needs to make it a point to get shot more often if this is what it gets him. 

“Okay?” TK asks, even though the answer is written across Carlos’s face, between his kiss-swollen lips and lust-blown pupils, his eyelashes fluttering as he gasps beneath TK’s touch. 

“Yes, fuck, so good,” Carlos says hurriedly. “You can move, c’mon.”

TK accepts the invitation, thrusting into him fast and deep. Carlos swears under his breath, tipping his head back as a wave of pleasure courses through him. As TK settles into a rhythm, Carlos seems to have lost all memory of all words other than _fuck, TK, yes, again,_ babbling under his breath between sharp inhales of breath and punched-out moans. 

Just when Carlos begins to feel his body tensing up, his breath coming faster as his orgasm builds, TK pulls out almost entirely, stilling for a moment. Carlos is sucking in long gulps of air, his body shaking beneath TK’s touch. 

“Still okay?” 

Carlos whines, nodding. He wants to come– fuck, he _needs_ to– but he knows TK will take care of him, will eventually get him over the edge. He trusts him entirely. 

TK moves again, slower this time. He reaches between their chests, taking Carlos’s dick in his hand and stroking it slowly, in time with his languid thrusts. It doesn’t take long before Carlos is a mess, rocking up to meet TK’s movements, panting and begging. And then TK lets go. He drops his hand, Carlos’s building orgasm grinding to a halt once more at the loss of contact.

“TK,” Carlos pants. “TK, come on, _please_.” 

“Not yet, baby,” TK’s drinking in the sight of him, strung-out and begging beneath him, kiss-swollen lips glistening in the low light. “You’re doing so good for me.” 

Carlos can barely stand it, thinks he might die if TK keeps edging him like this. But damn, what a way to go. TK rolls his hips slowly, the moan escaping Carlos’s lips beyond filthy. He does it again and Carlos has to remind himself how to breathe. 

“TK. Please, I need–.”

“Tell me what you need,” TK says, breath ghosting across Carlos’s skin. 

Carlos is desperate for it. “I need–fuck– I need to come.” 

TK pulls out long enough to flip Carlos over, nudges his knees apart as he slides back in. He drapes his chest over Carlos’s back, holding him tight as he thrusts his hips. Carlos moans, long and low, dropping his head to the mattress as he fucks himself back onto TK’s dick. Fuck, if that’s not the hottest thing TK’s ever seen. His dick twitches inside Carlos, who clenches around him. “Oh, Jesus,” TK groans, kissing up Carlos’s spine as he cants his hips. 

He’s got one hand hooked around Carlos’s chest, holding him in place as he brings the other down to wrap around Carlos’s dick. “Okay, baby,” TK murmurs, picking up his pace and stroking Carlos in time with his thrusts. “Come for me.”

Two more thrusts and Carlos is flying over the edge. His shoulders relax into the mattress, his toes curling as he comes, half a moan on his lips as his vision whites out. TK’s right behind him, biting down on Carlos’s shoulder as his whole body stills.

“Holy shit,” Carlos mumbles into the mattress once he finally gets his vocabulary back again. “That was…” his voice trails off. He doesn’t think there’s a word in the English language to accurately describe how fucking incredible it was. Earth-shattering comes pretty close, though. 

“As good for you as it was for me, I hope,” TK says, pulling out and rolling off him.

“Fuck yes,” Carlos promises, kissing him fiercely as he brings a hand up to TK’s neck, running his thumb over his cheek as his fingers come to rest in the back of his dark hair.

Eventually, TK stands up, disappearing for a moment before returning with a warm washcloth and a glass of water. He peppers tiny kisses across Carlos’s jaw as he cleans them up, then drops onto the mattress beside him with a satisfied smile. “What?” he asks, glancing at Carlos, who’s staring at him with the cutest awe-struck look in his eyes. 

“Just thinking I should get shot more often,” he teases. “That was quite the payoff.” 

TK scoffs, rolling his eyes. He’s got that damn half-smile on his face, his eyes bright as he leans over and presses a kiss to Carlos’s lips. “Don’t you dare.” 


End file.
